


Small Spaces

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [394]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 01:04:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8947039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: tenjounotora asked for: All five brothers are stuck on TB5 for some reason and are driving John crazy.





	1. Chapter 1

It hadn’t even been one full day, John thought as he leaned with his forehead resting against the bulkhead.  Soon they would be gone, he repeated in his head like a mantra.

He heard Eos’ camera whiz around towards him.  “John, your brothers are arguing in the kitchen.  Again.”

“I’m well aware, thank you Eos,” John said, not even opening his eyes.  He’d always thought TB5 spacious, but four more people was four too many.  The sound of Gordon and Alan’s bickering was echoing around the ring in both directions until the soundwaves collided off each other, echoing back at different rates until the entire ring was just a cacophony of sound.

It had only been twelve hours since TB3, her re-entry shield damaged, had limped onto TB5′s dock and disgorged the four of them.  They had been tired, and dirty, exhausted from the complicated, difficult and dangerous rescue, and short tempers had frayed further at the realization that TB5, while John’s home, was sparse compared to the island.

Gordon had grumbled about the tiny bathroom and the time-limited shower, and Virgil had screwed up his nose over the vacuum-sealed, pre-packaged meals that were John’s staple diet.  Scott was irritated to be trapped off earth and Alan was still smarting from the damage to his own bird.

And John had already had enough.

Scott’s voice had added itself to the argument echoing around the ring, and John snapped.  “Eos, stop the ring.”

He felt himself slide into weightlessness, his body automatically adapting.  From the sounds of the squawking from the other side of the ring, it was obvious his brothers hadn’t.

John sailed around the curve and rolled to a perfect stop at the edge of the counter.  All four of them were there, but only Alan had managed to orientate himself.  Scott and Virgil were bobbing like angry corks, and Gordon was spinning, lost without resistance, his desperate swimming strokes only serving to set him rolling in place.  John grabbed an ankle and easily tossed Gordon towards the vague padding of the small settee in the corner.

“Enough,” John snapped, putting every last ounce of authority he commanded into the word.  “It will be another six hours until Brains finishes fabricating the new part, and by then we’ll be in position to drop the elevator.  Wait _quietly_  or I will send you to the corner to think about what you’ve done.”

Gordon was sprawled on the settee, clinging to the edges like a spider monkey.  “You live in a ring, there are no corners.”  His words raised a chorus of mutinous grumbling agreement.

John scowled.  “Eos, work out the four corners.”

“Already done, John,” she purred, her camera sliding in to a stop by his shoulder.  Along the ring, the internal lights dimmed, but John could see two still at full brightness, one up the curve to his left, the other to his right.  “I have marked four equidistant points.”

Scott had drifted up close enough to a wall to find a handhold.  “John, you can’t be serious.”

John folded his arms.  “Act like children, get treated like children. Now, are you going to be quiet and let me work, or do I need to send you all to the naughty step.”

“No,” four petulant voices mumbled back.

“Good.  Now sit quietly, take a nap, whatever, just do it _quietly_.”  Point made, John twisted and pushed himself back towards the  hatch up to the central dome.

“Can we have the gravity back?” Gordon yelled after him.

“Only good children get gravity,” John yelled back as he disappeared up the access tube, firmly closing the hatch behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
> If I can request something? The brothers plot revenge on John for Small Spaces?

“Smells good,” John said in lieu of greeting as he tugged his civilian clothes straight.  The setting sun was casting the villa in shades of gold, and the smell of a full Sunday roast, Kansas style, hung in the air.

There were worse ways to start an Earthside rotation.

John frowned as he caught Gordon and Alan shooting each other glances, their jaws locked as they tried not to snicker.  John hadn’t seen that expression on either of them in a while; he wondered if they knew it made them look like a pair of constipated Labradors.

Ignoring them warily, John continued over to the table.  His lips pursed as he counted one fewer place settings.  “Did you forget I was coming down again?”

“No,” Gordon sounded like a tyre with the air escaping as he fought to keep a straight face.  “We’ve set your place.”

John let himself be led to the far corner, where the sloping glass wall met the flagstones.  There, tucked in the corner with the least clearance, was a plastic kiddies table.  They must have gone all the way to Kansas to get it out of storage; John could see the carved line where Virgil’s first attempt at papercraft had nearly left him with nine fingers.  They’d put a full kids service down - plastic plate with high sides like a frisbee, plastic fork and safety knife.  There was even a plastic cup with the faded print of some old cartoon superhero plastered garishly around its sides.

As far as revenge went, John knew he could have it a lot worse.  “As long as I get leg and not a wing,” he said mildly, hiding his own laugh much more expertly as Gordon and Alan’s faces dropped.  It took bending until his knees were nearly at his ears, but John made it onto the kiddie-sized seat.  He passed Gordon his plate.  “Go on,” he said, smirking in challenge.  “And don’t skimp on the gravy.”


End file.
